What to do on muddy fall afternoons
Just a bit of silliness that popped into my head last night. Written while half-asleep and suffering an excruciating headache (the kind that starts at the top of the head and stretches to the base of the neck), so all typos, mistakes, and general poor writtingness are my own fault (fortunately, it’s too short for plot holes). Fmaily friendly, and vague hints of at least four ships.
A Really Stupid Idea
by Hatcheter
A Langford University story
It was a cold, drizzly October afternoon that found Elizabeth, Sam, and Janet standing at the edge of the quad, staring in disbelief.
“Are they playing rugby?” Janet asked, watching a student kick a football at the stone ring. The ball hit the edge and shot sideways. Four players leapt up in the air, grabbing for it, and crashed back down in the mud in a tangle of limbs.
“I don’t know,” Sam replied. “I don’t think so.”
“They’re going to catch their deaths of cold,” Elizabeth said.
“Not if they break each other’s necks first,” Janet replied as Aiden Ford stiff-armed another student who tried to tackle him. He was promptly clothes lined by Teal’c, who stripped the ball from his hands in mid-air and easily kicked it through the ring.
Several dozen students and faculty members were arrayed around the ring, sloshing through the muddy field as they chased down the football, and each other. To the three women there didn’t appear to be any set teams, or any rules.
Sam nudged Janet, pointing to where a small crowed had gathered at the edge of the field. They made their way around to them, careful to stay out of the free-for-all.
“What’s going on here?” Elizabeth asked as they reached the observers.
“The stupidest way I’ve ever seen to celebrate the end of midterms,” Carson replied, wincing as Jonas Quinn ducked John Sheppard’s attempt at a flying tackle. Before Jonas could kick the ball Teyla tackled him from behind. The two hit the ground while the ball bounced off in another direction and quickly disappeared under a pile of bodies.
“Apparently there was a large crowd in the cafeteria this afternoon,” Carson explained. “Doctor Sheppard made a comment about celebrating the long weekend, and Jack O’Neill suggested playing football.”
Sam and Elizabeth sighed.
“They never made it as far as the football field, though,” McKay piped up from where he huddled against the light drizzle under a large umbrella.
“What’s that?” Janet asked Daniel as he approached with a notebook in hand.
Daniel shrugged. “Jack’s got me running the betting pool on who goes to the infirmary first.”
“The what?” Janet demanded. Carson jerked his head toward the building behind them, where two stretchers were waiting just inside the door.
“It’s a ten dollar buy in,” Daniel said. “So far Jack’s the favorite.”
“He’d better pray he doesn’t get hurt,” Janet muttered, glaring out onto the field. “And I can’t believe you’re participating in this, Daniel.”
Daniel held up his hands defensively. “Hey, I was given an ultimatum: keep the books or play the game.”
“Daniel was the two-to-one favorite if he played,” Carson quipped.
“I didn’t get your bet, doctor,” Daniel said to him.
“I’m betting on Rodney,” Carson replied, slapping McKay on the shoulder.
“I’m sitting right here, and have no intention of joining that madness.”
“Yes, but we know how trouble seems to find you.”
“I’ll take that bet too,” Sam added, reaching into her pocket.
“Sam!” Janet scolded. Rodney perked up momentarily, until he realized she was betting against him.
“Dad?”
Janet frowned, puzzled. “Uh, Sam?”
Sam pointed out onto the field. “My dad’s out there!”
“Yeah, Jack made some comment about age limits, and Jacob took offense,” Daniel said. They watched as Jacob barreled into Jack, knocking the ball from Jack as they both fell to the ground. Jacob scooped up the ball and tossed it to Teal’c, who kicked it through the ring.
“Guess he’s still mad,” Daniel said.
“This is a really stupid idea,” Sam muttered, watching for a moment more. She then took off her jacket and handed it to Janet.
“Sam?” Janet asked. Sam just grinned at her and jogged out onto the field.
Elizabeth leaned over to Janet. “Ten bucks says the only person she tackles is Jack O’Neill.”
“You’re on,” Janet replied. Moments later, she was ten dollars richer as Sam, John, and Jonas teamed up to drag Teal’c to the ground. One of the students scooped up the ball, only to be quickly flattened by Ron Dex, who took the ball and dove head first through the ring with it.
“Did you know she’d do that?”
Janet smiled. “This isn’t the first football game Jack has instigated.”
A wayward kick of the ball sent it bouncing toward the crowd of observers, a small mob of players right behind it. Two students dove for it, colliding and knocking the ball right to Rodney McKay’s feet. Rodney slipped on the wet grass as he tried to back away, landing flat on his back.
He sat up quickly, just in time to be flattened by a diving blond. Their heads collided with a sickening crack, and all motion on the field instantly stopped.
Carson and Janet were over the wounded in a moment. “Doctor McKay, are you alright?” Janet asked.
“I…I can’t see!”
Janet reached out and wiped the mud off Rodney’s face. “Can you move your arms and legs?”
“I dunno.”
“Try,” she ordered, exasperated.
Next to her, Carson was doing the same for the young woman who had hit Rodney. “That’s a hell of a lump on your head, lass,” he said, gently probing the rapidly forming bruise with his fingers.
“Call me Laura,” she replied lazily, lifting one hand to brush her fingers against Carson’s cheek. Her hand fell to her chest as she fainted. “Possible concussion,” Beckett said.
Janet nodded “We need to get them to the clinic, and then maybe the hospital.” Daniel had already wheeled the stretchers out, and with his help they loaded the pair.
Before they left, Daniel reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick wad of bills. He quickly counted out half of it and handed it to Carson, ignoring Janet’s disapproving frown.
The gray sky was growing darker, and the rain began to pick up. The players on the field began to disperse, many of them moving over to join the crowd that had been watching the game.
Daniel gave Sam her half of the winnings. “I feel kind of bad taking this,” Sam said.
“You could give it to Rodney then,” John suggested.
“I don’t think I feel that bad.”
“I got the cafeteria to stay open late for us,” Jack announced loudly. “There should be plenty of fresh coffee right about now.”
“I doubt they’ll let you in there like that, Jack,” Elizabeth said.
Jack glanced down at himself and grinned. He was coated with mud from head to toe. “I’m a trustee, I can do whatever I want. Sheppard here might have to strip down, though,” he added, jerking his thumb to the equally muddy mathematician.
“Like hell,” John replied. “I’m no dirtier than you are.”
“Neither one of you are fit for public presentation,” Jacob said.
Jack looked him up and down. “You’re pretty messy yourself, Jacob.”
“Oh, I wasn’t talking about the mud,” Jacob replied, earning a slap on the shoulder from Sam.
“And what were you doing out there?”
“Me, what about you?” Sam retorted. “A man of your age-“
“That’s what started this whole thing,” Jack muttered.
“-and stature ought to be more dignified than running around in the mud with kids a third of your age.”
“A third?” Jacob glared. “Sam, I don’t think you give me enough credit.”
“He was one of the best tackles out there,” Jack added helpfully. “So, coffee? I hear there might be cake as well.”
A Really Stupid Idea
by Hatcheter
A Langford University story
It was a cold, drizzly October afternoon that found Elizabeth, Sam, and Janet standing at the edge of the quad, staring in disbelief.
“Are they playing rugby?” Janet asked, watching a student kick a football at the stone ring. The ball hit the edge and shot sideways. Four players leapt up in the air, grabbing for it, and crashed back down in the mud in a tangle of limbs.
“I don’t know,” Sam replied. “I don’t think so.”
“They’re going to catch their deaths of cold,” Elizabeth said.
“Not if they break each other’s necks first,” Janet replied as Aiden Ford stiff-armed another student who tried to tackle him. He was promptly clothes lined by Teal’c, who stripped the ball from his hands in mid-air and easily kicked it through the ring.
Several dozen students and faculty members were arrayed around the ring, sloshing through the muddy field as they chased down the football, and each other. To the three women there didn’t appear to be any set teams, or any rules.
Sam nudged Janet, pointing to where a small crowed had gathered at the edge of the field. They made their way around to them, careful to stay out of the free-for-all.
“What’s going on here?” Elizabeth asked as they reached the observers.
“The stupidest way I’ve ever seen to celebrate the end of midterms,” Carson replied, wincing as Jonas Quinn ducked John Sheppard’s attempt at a flying tackle. Before Jonas could kick the ball Teyla tackled him from behind. The two hit the ground while the ball bounced off in another direction and quickly disappeared under a pile of bodies.
“Apparently there was a large crowd in the cafeteria this afternoon,” Carson explained. “Doctor Sheppard made a comment about celebrating the long weekend, and Jack O’Neill suggested playing football.”
Sam and Elizabeth sighed.
“They never made it as far as the football field, though,” McKay piped up from where he huddled against the light drizzle under a large umbrella.
“What’s that?” Janet asked Daniel as he approached with a notebook in hand.
Daniel shrugged. “Jack’s got me running the betting pool on who goes to the infirmary first.”
“The what?” Janet demanded. Carson jerked his head toward the building behind them, where two stretchers were waiting just inside the door.
“It’s a ten dollar buy in,” Daniel said. “So far Jack’s the favorite.”
“He’d better pray he doesn’t get hurt,” Janet muttered, glaring out onto the field. “And I can’t believe you’re participating in this, Daniel.”
Daniel held up his hands defensively. “Hey, I was given an ultimatum: keep the books or play the game.”
“Daniel was the two-to-one favorite if he played,” Carson quipped.
“I didn’t get your bet, doctor,” Daniel said to him.
“I’m betting on Rodney,” Carson replied, slapping McKay on the shoulder.
“I’m sitting right here, and have no intention of joining that madness.”
“Yes, but we know how trouble seems to find you.”
“I’ll take that bet too,” Sam added, reaching into her pocket.
“Sam!” Janet scolded. Rodney perked up momentarily, until he realized she was betting against him.
“Dad?”
Janet frowned, puzzled. “Uh, Sam?”
Sam pointed out onto the field. “My dad’s out there!”
“Yeah, Jack made some comment about age limits, and Jacob took offense,” Daniel said. They watched as Jacob barreled into Jack, knocking the ball from Jack as they both fell to the ground. Jacob scooped up the ball and tossed it to Teal’c, who kicked it through the ring.
“Guess he’s still mad,” Daniel said.
“This is a really stupid idea,” Sam muttered, watching for a moment more. She then took off her jacket and handed it to Janet.
“Sam?” Janet asked. Sam just grinned at her and jogged out onto the field.
Elizabeth leaned over to Janet. “Ten bucks says the only person she tackles is Jack O’Neill.”
“You’re on,” Janet replied. Moments later, she was ten dollars richer as Sam, John, and Jonas teamed up to drag Teal’c to the ground. One of the students scooped up the ball, only to be quickly flattened by Ron Dex, who took the ball and dove head first through the ring with it.
“Did you know she’d do that?”
Janet smiled. “This isn’t the first football game Jack has instigated.”
A wayward kick of the ball sent it bouncing toward the crowd of observers, a small mob of players right behind it. Two students dove for it, colliding and knocking the ball right to Rodney McKay’s feet. Rodney slipped on the wet grass as he tried to back away, landing flat on his back.
He sat up quickly, just in time to be flattened by a diving blond. Their heads collided with a sickening crack, and all motion on the field instantly stopped.
Carson and Janet were over the wounded in a moment. “Doctor McKay, are you alright?” Janet asked.
“I…I can’t see!”
Janet reached out and wiped the mud off Rodney’s face. “Can you move your arms and legs?”
“I dunno.”
“Try,” she ordered, exasperated.
Next to her, Carson was doing the same for the young woman who had hit Rodney. “That’s a hell of a lump on your head, lass,” he said, gently probing the rapidly forming bruise with his fingers.
“Call me Laura,” she replied lazily, lifting one hand to brush her fingers against Carson’s cheek. Her hand fell to her chest as she fainted. “Possible concussion,” Beckett said.
Janet nodded “We need to get them to the clinic, and then maybe the hospital.” Daniel had already wheeled the stretchers out, and with his help they loaded the pair.
Before they left, Daniel reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick wad of bills. He quickly counted out half of it and handed it to Carson, ignoring Janet’s disapproving frown.
The gray sky was growing darker, and the rain began to pick up. The players on the field began to disperse, many of them moving over to join the crowd that had been watching the game.
Daniel gave Sam her half of the winnings. “I feel kind of bad taking this,” Sam said.
“You could give it to Rodney then,” John suggested.
“I don’t think I feel that bad.”
“I got the cafeteria to stay open late for us,” Jack announced loudly. “There should be plenty of fresh coffee right about now.”
“I doubt they’ll let you in there like that, Jack,” Elizabeth said.
Jack glanced down at himself and grinned. He was coated with mud from head to toe. “I’m a trustee, I can do whatever I want. Sheppard here might have to strip down, though,” he added, jerking his thumb to the equally muddy mathematician.
“Like hell,” John replied. “I’m no dirtier than you are.”
“Neither one of you are fit for public presentation,” Jacob said.
Jack looked him up and down. “You’re pretty messy yourself, Jacob.”
“Oh, I wasn’t talking about the mud,” Jacob replied, earning a slap on the shoulder from Sam.
“And what were you doing out there?”
“Me, what about you?” Sam retorted. “A man of your age-“
“That’s what started this whole thing,” Jack muttered.
“-and stature ought to be more dignified than running around in the mud with kids a third of your age.”
“A third?” Jacob glared. “Sam, I don’t think you give me enough credit.”
“He was one of the best tackles out there,” Jack added helpfully. “So, coffee? I hear there might be cake as well.”